Lack Of Input
by StripesCO
Summary: While writing an article for the school paper about the different types of music that the students listen to, Wendy interviews the Goth Kids to get some kind of input on the type of bands they listen to. And inadvertently scaring the youngest Goth...


**A/N:** Just a little fluff story I wrote about Georgie being all cute and shy. This is the kind of story that comes out of my stressed-out mind, so enjoy!

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Wendy hadn't meant to scare him. She had only wanted to get his input for an article she was writing about for the school's newspaper. She had broached the subject with Bebe on the varied music tastes that seem to place some students in typical clichés, and her blonde friend had lightened up on the idea. Even going as far to say that she should interview the group of Emo kids that sat behind the school half the time and smoked.

"You mean the Goths?" Wendy had corrected Bebe who had shrugged; indifferent by whatever name the group went by.

The Goths had immediately sized her up, a bit, when she arrived in front of them at their normal hang-out location. Henrietta instantly turned her warm welcome icy towards her, and her fellow friends looked between a cross of amusement and laid-back boredom. Wendy sighed before telling them that she was there only to get their input on the kind of music they listen to.

"Mostly we listen to the kind of music that represents our pain," The red Goth said simply. He switched his fringe a bit out of his eyes as he observed Wendy trying to make sense of that phrase.

"You know," The tall Goth pointed out as he lifted himself off the ground so he could stand a little taller. "Like AC/DC..."

"Nine Inch Nails!"

"Skinny Puppy," Henrietta also pointed out.

Wendy nodded her head as she wrote down several of the band names the three Goth kids threw out to her before glancing at the youngest Goth member - Georgie. She only knew his name because Stan's best friend, Kyle, had retold them who his little brother, Ike, would talk about from his kindergarten class. Most of the time, it was about the little Goth, but only because he skipped so much.

"What about you, Georgie?" Wendy asked as nicely as she could.

A small gasp was heard, followed by a small shuffling noise. Wendy let her eyes wander from the pad of paper she was writing on towards the now empty space where the little Goth had just been. She blinked in astonishment and swerved her head back and forth between the Goths.

The red Goth smirked a bit before masking his face completely. The cheerleader, however, looked between the Goths once more before giving up and asking, "Where'd he go?"

"He's just shy," Henrietta said softly. "Especially when someone knows his name, but he doesn't know them."

"Oh," Wendy looked a little shocked at scaring the youngest Goth. "I'm sorry, Georgie."

His face peeked out from around the back of the tall Goth's legs, and his fingers clutched almost nervously to the black fabric of the tall Goth's trench-coat. Wendy started towards him in hopes of apologizing to his face, but as she drew closer he instantly shied away to stand fully concealed behind the tall Goth.

Wendy sighed in defeat as her gaze caught with that of the tall Goth, and she backed away from the unusual group. "I didn't mean to scare you, Georgie," She said gently. To the other Goths she merely nodded her thanks for giving her some interesting band names and input before almost scampering away.

* * *

"She's gone," Dylan muttered as Georgie still hid behind Ethan's legs.

"I know," The little Goth replied. His hands, however, gripped the side of Ethan's jeans as the older Goth lit up a new cigarette.

"Then maybe you should, I don't know, stop cowering like a pussy behind Ethan's le-"

"Leave him be, Dylan." Ethan snapped, flicking a bit of ashes from his cigarette to the ground.

Dylan huffed and returned to his bored expressionless face as he observed a group of third graders playing soccer in the wet snow. Henrietta, who had ignored the boys' conversation, merely opened her little black book and proceeded to jot down some new poetry thoughts.

Ethan, on the other hand, glanced down to his left as he felt an enormous tug at his black jeans. Georgie stood against him, looking up at him with big almost innocent-like eyes. He pushed his bottom lip out a bit, and Ethan leaned down so he could hear the boy speak.

"Thank you," Georgie mumbled, still clutching the edge of his trench-coat as Ethan merely smirked and nodded his head...

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**Comments are appreciated!**


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